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“Probably for our own good.” Stacey’s hands shoot up, frustrated. “I for one really don’t want to know what kind of monsters are out there.”
“You’d rather be in the dark?” I ask, seriously curious.
“Yes. Being in the dark isn’t always a bad thing, Marina. Could you seriously go home and turn your back on it all?”
She has a point, but I still want to know.
“I couldn’t,” she continues angrily. “I’d constantly be looking over my shoulder. Paranoid. You know what happens to paranoid girls? They end up killing themselves or they get institutionalized.”
My face pales. She’s just described Maggie. Paranoia led her to do just that. Stacey isn’t wrong. In fact, she makes the most sense I’ve heard in some time, but it doesn’t change anything. The fact is, I do know monsters exist. I’ve been living with some sense of that knowledge my whole life. I need to know everything. It’s about more than just curiosity. It’s about knowing that Maggie didn’t die in vain. What she saw, the things she said, it was all true, and a nagging voice in my head says that this place, these people, have something to do with her death. Now it’s personal.
Julian promised me answers after dinner, and I plan to hold his feet to the fire.
Chapter Eighteen
“Thank you, Julian,” Stacey offers for the delicious meal we were just served. “You don’t know what it means to me that you saved me from your brother.”
Julian’s eyes lower to the table. It makes me wonder how long Stacey will be safe. Can we keep her here and away from Marcellus?
“You’re welcome,” he says bashfully, cheeks reddening, which is strange to see on a vampire.
“You do have blood,” Stacey muses.
Julian chuckles. “What did you think, we were hollow?”
“Every movie I’ve ever watched, the vampires were unnaturally pale.” She considers him. “You do have the pasty white skin going on, but your cheeks just turned red. So you have to have blood flowing.”
“If nothing, you are observant. And yes, we do have blood flowing through our veins.”
“Can I ask you a question without you killing me?”
Julian’s brow lifts in amusement at Stacey’s forwardness.
“Please. This I have to hear,” he says jokingly, motioning for her to continue.
“Did another vampire bite you? Is that how you’re... well... a vampire?” She grinds her teeth.
“Not exactly,” Julian admits, which draws narrowed eyes from both Stacey and me.
“You weren’t bitten?” I question, shocked to hear this. If not bitten, then how?
“Some humans are born with DNA that, when exposed to certain viruses, can result in vampirism.”
“Wait. What?” Stacey says, perplexed.
“Our parents both carried the gene, but they were humans for most of their lives. My brothers and I were the first of our kind. We’re called Borns.”
“I don’t understand. Are you saying that there is a vampire gene that lives in humans?” Stacey asks for clarification.
“Some humans. Not all. We know very little about the start of our kind, but what we do know is that select humans have a gene in their DNA that makes them susceptible to the change, given the right circumstances.”
“You’ve had centuries to figure this out and you haven’t?” I’m flabbergasted. Why wouldn’t efforts be made to pinpoint the origins of the species? I’m no scientist, but it seems ridiculous that they don’t have this figured out. What if there is a cure?
“You’d be surprised how quickly a century goes by, Marina. It took my father nearly a century to cope with the change. He couldn’t stave off the hunger and he had three newborn vampires to care for—on his own. The origins weren’t first on the list.”
This is a touchy subject for Julian. I can tell in the way his eyes are narrowed and the way he grits his teeth. I imagine those days aren’t ones he wishes to remember, based on the tone of his voice. There’s an edge to his words. I won’t press that subject because it doesn’t matter, and I don’t want to shut him down.
“Go on,” I press.
